Denarius For Your Thoughts?
by AnnabethLuna
Summary: A oneshot about Jason and Reyna's "private talk" the day before he disappears. More explanation in the Author's Note. I'm assuming they started out as close friends, and then became sort of a couple. T out of paranoia


**Okay, so I'd had this written for a long time, but never had a story to put it to. So I decided that when Reyna says "We might have been [a couple] given time," she means that it's a little like Annabeth when she kissed Percy in Mount St. Helens. That they have feelings for each other, but never became a clear-cut couple. And I decided that it would work better for my story if it took place right before Jason disappeared, so this is during the day before Jason disappeared. When Octavian says that Reyna "had a private talk" with Jason. So, they might have been a couple, given time, but they didn't because the next day he disappeared.**

**Wow, that was a long AN. Well, I am not Rick Riordan and do not own these characters.**

He wanted to kiss her.

She was sitting near him – so close, but always too far away – in companionable silence. In their case, "companionable silence" meant that they were sitting together, doing paperwork; an unfortunate downside to being praetor.

(Although actually, he wasn't getting much paperwork done. He kept getting . . . er . . . distracted)

She'd told him she needed to talk to him, but then explained that that was only to get him away from Octavian, that she really just wanted company and help with the paperwork.

Which put them here. For December, the weather was unusually warm, so they were sitting outside, under a tree, enjoying the uncommon sunshine.

He was reminded of Newton and gravity (even though there was probably a divine explanation for gravity, they still had to learn all the mortal science ideas so they could pass for normal. Besides, he'd never actually heard the gravity myth). But anyway, he thought of how Newton claimed that the idea of gravity had come to him all because of sitting under a tree, and an apple falling onto his head. Maybe sitting under a tree was a magical solution to problems.

He wondered: if he stretched out his hand, would a solution fall into it? Or would it have to hit him on the head like Newton's apple?

Something landed in his hand.

Had something actually happened? Had one of the gods decided to answer his unarticulated prayer? Was it some secret manual with the way to a girl's heart? Was it some sort of rule sheet to the _we-started-out-as-best-friends-and-then-I-fell-hopelessly-head-over-heels-in-love-with-her-but-have-no-clue-how-to-tell-her-because-I-don't-want-to-ruin-our-friendship _problem?

Blinking, he looked at the object in his hand. It was a denarius. She stood over him, smirking. "Denarius for your thoughts?"

No way he was telling her those. "That'll cost you more than a denarius," he said, wrapping his fingers around it anyway.

"Well, I'm definitely not giving you anything more," she retorted, but she was still smiling.

"I'm not talking about money," he said. He dug the fingers of his left hand into the grass and clenched his right hand tighter around the coin.

"Then give me my coin back." She glared at him playfully, dropping to her knees so she could better look him in the eye.

This was a side of her no one got to see but him. To the rest of Camp Jupiter she was the strong, stoic one, the daughter of the majestic war goddess, beautiful but composed, who never showed emotion. And it had been like that with him, at first, had taken years of friendship for him to crack her tough exterior, to reveal her other side.

(She would still beat him up if he got on her bad side, but it was a risk you always had to take with Reyna)

And, looking at her, the risk was worth it. A strand of dark hair had come loose from her braid and was blowing across her face – so stereotypical but so _beautiful_, and he wanted to reach up and brush it back behind her ear –

He almost groaned with the strain of holding himself back. He wanted to tell her, but who knew what would happen if he did? Probably the _best _possible outcome would be her challenging him to a duel – and with the way she kept distracting him, there was no way he could win.

"No," he said, keeping his fingers tightly wrapped around her coin. "I'm keeping it." Forever, he didn't add.

"But if you don't want money" –

"I don't want any _more_ of your money," he corrected. "I'm keeping this one."

"Then you have to tell me your thoughts."

"No."

"Then give my back my denarius!"

"Do you realize how pointless this argument is?" he asked.

"Yes." She grinned suddenly, that breathtaking, heart-stopping grin that made her dark eyes sparkle and her whole face light up. The smile that no one got to see but him. "But I don't care. You're thinking about something, and I'm curious, and if you won't tell me then you could at least give me back my denarius."

"I'll give you a hint." He slowed suddenly, trying to figure out how to phrase this. Because she really wouldn't take the answer "I'm dying to kiss you" very well at all. Finally, he settled on, "The thought . . . is about the payment that I want." Should be vague enough.

"Huh?" She scooted a little closer. "You know I'm no good at riddles."

"Trust me, you don't want the answer."

"No?" Her voice was still teasing, but she was no longer smiling. She moved a bit closer. "I think" – her knee was almost touching his now – "I really do."

His breath was short; he was almost sure she had noticed it, despite his struggle to keep it silent, due to the return of her smirk. "No."

"So how many guesses do I get?" she asked.

"If you can get it in three I'll give you your denarius back."

"Hmm." She fell silent. Then, her smile disappeared, but her face wasn't the usual stoic praetor. It was . . . nervous? "Well," she said. "I don't know if this is what you mean or not, but it's what_ I'm_ thinking, so let's call it my first guess."

And then she leaned in.

As their lips met, he felt such a jolt that his hand flew open and her coin fell out. She was on it in an instant. "There you go, Grace," she said, lifting one eyebrow and giving him the haughty I-won look that he alternatively loved and hated. Right now he loved it more than he ever had anything in the past. "Didn't need your guesses after all."

"Yes you did," he corrected. He felt dazed, giddy. "But you only needed one."

"Oh?" She raised both her eyebrows this time. "Well then, in that case," and she leaned closer until he could see the gold flecks in her dark eyes, "I'm a very impressive guesser."

He laughed, moving forward until their lips were almost touching again. His lids had lowered to nearly closed, so all he could see was her face. "What were you saying about being no good at riddles?"

But her answer was lost in his lips.


End file.
